


An Incident Has Occurred

by CakeLoverForLife



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Drama, Minor Character Death, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CakeLoverForLife/pseuds/CakeLoverForLife
Summary: As he left, his phone started buzzing.  Carol gave him a dirty look, but nodded, knowing that the call could only be about an emergency.  She had made it clear to the President that Russell was not to be disturbed unless something was very, very wrong.  Russell pushed the green button on his phone.“Hello?”“Mr. Jackson, there has been an incident.”
Comments: 28
Kudos: 31





	1. The News

Russell was on vacation. Not by choice, but because Carol had all but called the President himself to force Russell to leave the office for the week. It was a terrible week to be gone, but Carol had been insistent, and he had finally relented. So here he was, sitting in a cafe in who-knows-where Vermont, watching the news on the tiny TV hanging in the corner.

It was a big news day. All three of the top executive branch officials were in the public eye. Russell knew how rare it was that the President, Vice-President, and Secretary of State were all doing public engagement at the same time, but due to their extremely busy schedules, it had been the only time that any of them could go. The public got antsy if they didn’t see the leaders of the nation for too long a time.

Plus, there was the whole matter of trying to get Dalton reelected. Election year was next year, and the polls weren’t all too promising. That was another reason that public engagement by the administration was essential. So there he was, seeing what the common people got to see of three of the most powerful people in the world: Conrad Dalton, Mark Delgado, and Elizabeth McCord.

Russell sighed as he saw his wife wave him towards the door. She had insisted on media-blackout for the duration of the vacation, a rule that Russell was having none of. He hated not knowing what was going on in the world. Good grief, he hated not being in the center of power.

“Russell, I only asked for one week! Can you not handle one week?!” Carol was frustrated, but not all too surprised.

“Fine, I’m coming, I’m coming!” he called back, took one last glance at the TV screen, and scrambled out the door.

As he left, his phone started buzzing. Carol gave him a dirty look, but nodded, knowing that the call could only be about an emergency. She had made it clear to the President that Russell was not to be disturbed unless something was very, very wrong. Russell pushed the green button on his phone.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Jackson, there has been an incident.”

* * *

_Five minutes earlier_

“Mr. President, it’s time to start,” Conrad’s assistant reminded him. He put his head in his hands. Of all the things he could be doing, this was the last place he wanted to be. His advisors had just briefed him over the phone about the formation of a new terrorist group in the Middle East, his wife had come down with the flu, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast six hours earlier. Safe to say, he was not in his greatest mood. 

But none of that mattered to the American people. Well, maybe the whole terrorist group thing, but that was still classified. The public just wanted to hear him speak about the great American dream, or something of the sort. He didn’t have much of a choice. He had to deliver.

The small TV on the wall of the prep room showed Bess’s face, her speech having concluded seconds earlier. His Secretary of State, his Vice-President, and himself were all speaking this afternoon. He knew Mark Delgado, his vice president, would be arriving at some university in Florida in a few minutes. Bess was at UVA, and he was here, at some convention at Georgetown University. Bess had joked earlier that he would steal half her audience. Who would want to watch the secretary of state speak when you could watch the president, she had stated with mock seriousness.

“Mr. President?”

“Oh, yes, sorry Lucy!” Conrad apologized as he stood up, buttoned his sport coat, and walked the short hallway to the stage.

The stage lights blinded him for a moment, and he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the glare. The audience was packed, with the exception of the first two rows of seating. In those rows, Secret Service agents packed in, ready to jump in if the need arose. Normal protocol stated that three rows be reserved for Secret Service, but Georgetown had oversold tickets before they remembered the protocol, and Secret Service had relented, just this once.

“Hello, fellow Americans,” he began.

_Bang_

* * *

Elizabeth had just finished her speech. After a long week, full of late nights, she was ready to lay down on a couch and fall asleep, but that wasn’t an option. She still had hands to shake, pictures to take, and powerful people to talk to. She was far from done.

Smiling for the cameras, she turned away from the crowd, and walked through the narrow aisle to get to the back exit. She needed a short break, and she knew where she could locate a few couches.

_Bang_


	2. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As many people try to figure out what is going on, others are left mercifully unaware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of late-night writing, so I'm not even sure how good it is! But it gets the point across, so we're going with it. Oh, I forgot to say this on the last chapter, but obviously I do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters. C'mon guys, I'm not a millionaire! 
> 
> As always, feedback is very appreciated!

Henry was swamped. He had 32 papers to grade, lessons to write for five classes, and a book whose deadline was next month. He was sitting in his home office, trying to concentrate as his kids bickered in the kitchen. Finally giving up, he walked towards the sound of their voices.

“You guys make it impossible to get any work done in this joint!” he teased them. Jason looked rather indigent, while both Ally and Stevie seemed slightly ashamed. “Guys, I’m teasing you!”

“Why aren’t you at mom’s speech today?” Ally asked.

“Yeah, don’t you usually go to those?” Jason added.

“I have about a million things to get done today. There is no way I can do that  _ and _ attend all thousand of your mothers speeches. Besides, she said it was fine for me to miss this one,” he reassured them.

“Did you watch it on TV?” Stevie asked. “I would have, but my phone decided to die right as it was starting…”

“You know we have an actual TV for a reason, right?” Henry joked.

“But that’s so much work to set up!”

Ally broke in. “Isn’t Mr. Dalton speaking, like, right now?”

“Yeah,” Stevie confirmed, “and I should probably watch, in case Russell decides to quiz me when he gets back…”

Henry made his way to the living room, followed by all three of his kids, and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels, finally landing on the one that showed Conrad Dalton walking onto the stage.

“This looks like the right channel!” Stevie exclaimed, grabbing a notepad. The president began to speak.

“Hello, fellow Americans.”

_ Bang. _

There was a moment of silence. Then chaos erupted on the screen.

* * *

Conrad was on the ground. He didn’t know how he ended up on the floor of the stage, only that he was there now. He could feel two agents above him. They were yelling into their microphones.

“Evacuate Falcon! Repeat, evacuate Falcon! Falcon under fire!”

Conrad had heard the gunshots. There were three of them, though he was fairly certain that none had hit him. They were probably  _ intended _ for him, but they had missed their target. 

He felt himself being pulled up, and he complied, letting the Secret Service agents surround him as he was transported off the stage and into the room he had been waiting in minutes earlier.

“What is going on?” Conrad heard himself asking, repeatedly, but no one was answering. He was quiet as a medic gave him a once-over, confirmed that no, he had not been hit, and left the room.

“What is going on here?” Conrad demanded to know, interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing. He picked it up.

“Hello?” he answered the phone.

“Mr. President,” a familiar voice greeted him.

“Russell, aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” Conrad laughed, but was frankly glad to hear Russell’s voice.

“Conrad, there’s… a situation you should be aware of…” Russell sounded, for lack of a better word, perturbed.

“What’s happening?”

“The vice-president is dead, sir…” Russell trailed off, which gave Conrad a few seconds to process what his chief of staff had just told him.

“Dead? How?”

“Bullet to the head, sir. There’s… there’s more,” Russell stumbled over his words, something Conrad knew he only did when he was extremely upset.

“More?”

“Bess was shot too…” Conrad heard Russell’s voice break. He was aware that Russell cared about Bess quite a bit, so he wasn’t all too surprised. Conrad himself was on the verge of tears; while he had been friends with Mark, he loved Bess like he would love a daughter. He had trained her, recruiting her while she was still in college. He had seen her fall in love, become a mother, and grow into a wonderful and strong woman. 

“Is… is she okay?” he managed to stammer out.

“She’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking. Bullet hit her in the back, she’s being taken into surgery.”

“Does Henry know?” Conrad came to his senses, realizing that whatever love he had for Bess, Henry had him doubled.

“Not yet. The news is still too occupied with the shots fired at you and the death of Mark to report on her. Do you want to make the call, or should I?” Russell inquired. This made Conrad stop and think for a moment. He had absolutely no desire to call Henry and tell him that his wife had been shot. That was one call he had hoped to never have to make. On the other hand, he knew that he owed it to Henry to make this call; to tell him that his wife had been hurt.

“I’ll do it. Thanks for calling, Russell.” Conrad was about to hang up, but decided he needed to know one more detail before he let Russell go. “Say, how the heck did you know about this?”

“I was called right after the bullets started flying at you. Was on the line when Mark and Bess got shot. They figured I should give you the news, sir.” Russell silently waited for a reply.

“Of course. Thanks, Russell. Sorry to cut your vacation short.”

“You know very well that I never wanted to go on that vacation, sir. Not that I wanted to get out of it because of something like this…”

“I know. Talk to you later.” Conrad hung up the phone, and dialed another number he happened to know off the top of his head.

“Mr. President?”

“Hello, Henry.”

* * *

Elizabeth felt a warm sting in her back. She whipped around, trying to figure out what had happened, but she realized she was falling, and she tumbled to the ground.

Lying on her back, she could see the chaos occurring above her. Everything was a little fuzzy, but she watched as her Diplomatic Security agents ran around, one kneeling at her side, trying to figure out how badly she had been hit. She assumed she should be feeling something, but she didn’t. It was probably for the best; gunshot wounds were not fun. Elizabeth knew from experience.

Turning her head a bit, she could see Nadine and Blake, the only members of her staff that had attended the speaking event, arguing with an agent. She really couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her ears were ringing way too loudly for that. But she could tell that they were trying to get to her, finally being waved to a waiting car. Elizabeth felt herself being lifted into the air, and the resulting movement made her nauseous. She closed her eyes, finally opening then when she felt the walking stop. The two agents that were carrying her flipped her onto her stomach, then gently laid her on one of the seats of the waiting car. 

She saw the looks of horror on Nadine and Blake’s faces. Wondering why she couldn’t feel the wound, she chalked it up to shock. Nadine began to stroke her hair, which, Elizabeth had to admit, was rather comforting. She weakly reached out her hand and placed it on the pale hand belonging to Blake. Their eyes met, and she tried to reassure him. He seemed to calm down a little, but he was still incredibly pale.

Elizabeth’s ears were still ringing. She could tell that the others in the car were saying something, but she couldn’t hear anything. She could feel herself getting lightheaded; probably not a good sign. She couldn’t help it, though, closing her eyes. She fell asleep right then and there.


	3. McCords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The McCord family get filled in on what has just occured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of a longer chapter, for your reading pleasure! I just couldn't really find a good place to end! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated so much!

Stevie watched her dad drop his cell phone, and ran to pick it up for him. She was nervous. Her dad was almost never pale, but he sure was right then. Spinning her head to see her two siblings, they looked as concerned as she felt.

“Hello?” she spoke into the phone.

“Stevie, is that you?” It took her a moment to register who was speaking to her, but when she did, she felt her jaw drop.

“Mr. Conrad, er, Mr. President?” She accidentally had used her childhood nickname for the leader of the free world, and she was thoroughly embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Stevie. Conrad works for right now. Is your dad okay?” Conrad Dalton asked, using a tone she recognized almost immediately. It was his ‘I have bad news but I don’t want to freak you out’ tone.

“Yeah, he just looks a little shocked. What’s going on?” She paused for a moment, before adding, “Did something happen to Mom?”

“Stevie, I need you to sit down,” Conrad said with practiced calmness. Hesitating for a moment, she complied.

“Okay, I’m sitting. What’s going on?”

“Stevie, your mom was shot,” he said, rather bluntly. While the statement certainly knocked the wind out of her lungs, she was glad he didn’t beat around the bush. 

“Shot?” she asked, breathing heavily. “How? Where?”

“She was walking through a crowd, and was hit in the back. She’s alive, Stevie,” Conrad tried to reassure her. “She’s being taken into surgery as we speak.”

Now Stevie understood her dad’s reaction to the phone call. She wanted to cry, to throw up, to do anything to get rid of the awful feeling in her stomach. Her mom, shot. Her mom, hurt. Wait. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, cringing at the fact that her voice sounded like that of a five year old child.

“Stevie, you guys should probably get to the hospital.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“No, I just don’t know how to answer it.” She heard Conrad sigh. Of course he didn’t know how to answer that question. It was a loaded question, for pity’s sake! Her mom hated it when she asked loaded questions, yet Elizabeth McCord used them all the time. That was how her mom had figured out that Stevie was dating a guy, without Stevie meaning to reveal the fact.

“I’ll get my family to the hospital. George Washington, right?” 

“Yes, and godspeed.” He ended the call, and Stevie was left with three pairs of eyes staring at her.

“Dad, are you alright?” was her first question, which was answered with a slight nod from her dad.

“Stevie, what’s going on?”

“Why are we going to the hospital?”

“Is mom alright?”

Her siblings pressed her with questions, which left her a bit overwhelmed. Not that she wasn’t overwhelmed before; her mom had just gotten shot, and all she wanted right then was to curl up in her mom’s lap and sob.

“Mom’s at George Washington hospital. She was shot in the back. She’s in surgery, and we need to go right now,” Stevie managed to say, before running upstairs to grab her license, wallet, phone, and keys. Her siblings ran to gather essentials, while her father continued to stand in the center of the living room, looking like a deer in the headlights.

“Dad, you ready?” she asked as she ran down the stairs, followed closely by Jase and Ally.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” he stuttered out, and they all ran out to the car, Stevie in the driver’s seat. It was probably for the best; her dad was in no condition to deal with DC traffic.

It was a very silent drive, broken only by the occasional notification or text message on people’s phones as family and friends heard what had just happened. Stevie was terrified.

* * *

  
Henry felt like he was going crazy. They had been sitting in the waiting room for hours, though it could have only been minutes. He really didn’t know. All he did know was that somewhere in this hospital, doctors were tirelessly working to save his wife’s life. He was also aware that there was a very real possibility that the doctors would fail. He couldn’t stand it.

He looked around the room. It was nearing seven o’clock, not late by any means, but the events of the day had really taken it out of Ally and Jason, who were asleep across some of the chairs that lined the walls of the private waiting room. Stevie was reading, subconsciously playing with the silver bracelet that wrapped around her left wrist. It made him smile. Whenever she was stressed, Elizabeth would play with her rings. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Dispersed around the room were members of Elizabeth’s staff. He was aware that Blake and Nadine had been at the scene, though probably any person could have figured that out; both had blood stains on parts of their clothing. Nadine had obviously tried to clean her blouse and skirt, but Blake didn’t pay them any mind. Even Henry knew that wasn’t usual for Blake, and it made him slightly more worried. In another corner of the room sat Daisy, Jay, and Matt, busily typing away at laptops, but consistently looking up to see if anything had changed. He watched as, just then, Daisy looked up at the wall clock, squinted, as if trying to make the time something different, then sigh and look back at whatever she was working on.

At some point, Will had shown up, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. Turns out, he had. “Night shift,” he had explained, and the McCords had just nodded. They were too stressed to laugh, or even smile. Elizabeth _had_ to be okay.

He had barely even acknowledged the President or Russell Jackson when they had silently walked into the room, taking seats along with everyone else. He only reacted strongly when a doctor  _ finally _ walked through the set of swinging doors that were guarded by two Secret Service agents. 

“Is she alive?” That had been Henry’s first question. “Is she alive?”

“Yes, sir, your wife is alive, and will most likely stay that way. We had to remove a bullet from her back, and repair one of her kidneys, but she will survive.”

“So, she’ll be fine, then? No long-term effects?”

“Well, sir, that’s actually something we need to talk about…” the doctor looked pensive, and it made Henry’s stomach drop.

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe we should go somewhere a bit more private,” the doctor suggested, but Henry shook his head.

“No, I need you to tell me what’s wrong, Doctor...,” he demanded, standing up, and realizing he had no clue what the doctor’s name was.

“Doctor Steven Myers. Sir,” the doctor said slowly, “the bullet hit your wife’s spinal cord between vertebrates T-7 and T-8. The cord was torn by the bullet, which leads us to believe that there will be some extreme deficits to your wife’s mobility. It is very likely that she will be classified as a paraplegic, I am very sorry, sir.”

It took a moment for the doctor’s words to compute in Henry’s mind.

“You mean… you mean she won’t be able to walk?” he managed to speak, his voice breaking.

“That is our initial assessment, sir. We can’t be certain until she wakes up.”

His head was spinning. He couldn’t make sense of the thoughts in his head, or the emotions that threatened to break his heart. His wife, his rock, his whole world, was hurt, and he couldn’t comprehend it. Henry stood up, not sure why, and, without any good cause, started charging at the totally innocent doctor.

Someone grabbed his arm, though he wasn’t sure who, and he whipped his arm around, which made whoever it was fly away with surprising lightness. He did not want to think about who he might have just thrown to the floor.

Seconds later, two much stronger hands grabbed his shoulders from in front of him, coming between Henry and his target.

“Henry, snap out of it!” Henry recognized the voice, and stopped short of punching out the president of the United States.

“She’s alive, Henry! Elizabeth is alive! She is going to wake up, and she will be alive!” Conrad was practically yelling, but it somehow calmed Henry down just a bit. He looked around, and grimaced when he saw Elizabeth’s staff gathered around a clearly in pain Nadine, who was lying on the floor. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone.

“She’s… she’s… she’s…” Henry stuttered, looking back at Conrad. 

“She’s going to be okay. Henry, you didn’t lose your wife today,” Conrad calmly reminded him. “We’ll figure it out.”

It occurred to Henry to look back to his children, all still sitting where they had been before his outburst. Stevie was staring into space, Ally was softly sobbing, and Jason, well, Jason looked as angry as Henry felt. And as helpless. He walked over to where they all remained, gathering them and looking into each one’s eyes.

“Guys, I am so sorry for my, um, outburst. We are all going to be okay. Your mom’s going to be okay.” He looked up to the slightly terrified doctor. “How long until we can see her?” he asked.

“Oh, you can go in whenever you want. She isn’t being actively sedated anymore, so she could wake up any time in the next couple of hours.” He paused. “It would be good if someone was in there.”

Henry turned back to his kids, who were all looking at him expectantly. “Can we all go in?” he asked Dr. Myers.

“Normally, we wouldn’t allow children into the ICU, but we’ll let it slide, under the circumstances. Follow me,” Dr. Myers said, walking and holding the doors open as the McCord family filed into the dimly lit hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has already taken a darker turn than I intended, but we're going with it. Hey, at least no one we care about died!
> 
> Here is the necessary sentence where I remind you that I do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters.


	4. Buzzing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! I was busy at work all week (and weekend), and had hardly any time to myself. Anyway, I started writing this chapter over a week ago, and have just now completed it (at 11:30 PM, no less, but whatever), so apologies in advance for how choppy this might be. I literally wrote whenever I had the chance!
> 
> No, I have not struck gold in my backyard in this last week, so I still do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters. 
> 
> Feedback is extremely, extremely appreciated. I love hearing what you guys think of this story!

The first thing that broke through the fuzziness in Elizabeth’s ears was a shrill, constant beeping. It went on, seemingly endlessly, which confused her to no end. A voice broke through; she could recognize that voice anywhere, and strained to hear more of it. She couldn’t quite make out what it was saying, but it was comforting all the same. 

She knew she should try and open her eyes, but her eyelids were so, so heavy. Elizabeth was tempted to succumb to the darkness of sleep once more, but the voice continued on, and she finally managed to lift her eyelids.

The first things she saw were Henry’s eyes. They were full of love, terror, and… and something else. She could figure that out later. She still had no clue where she was, what had happened, and she needed to know.

Her eyes traveled around the room. A hospital, she knew she was in a hospital. The glass walls, white walls, and light blue sheets gave it away. She realized that the beeping she had heard was a heart-rate monitor, a revelation that made the noise no less annoying.

She felt Henry’s grip on her left hand. It was strong. Secure. She didn’t want him to let go, she knew that much. She scoured her memory, trying to figure out why she would be in a hospital. She had been at UVA, she had just finished her speech. She remembered walking down the steps and off the stage. She had been trying to get to the back room, and then… she shuddered as the memory of the shooting flashed through her brain. Henry’s grip tightened. It almost hurt, but she really didn’t care. Now that she thought about it, it was one of the only things she could feel. They must have put her on some pretty intense pain meds. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist.

Her eyes moved back to Henry. He was watching her, looking almost… nervous. Well, she couldn’t exactly blame him. She would have been more than nervous if he had been shot. Correction, she had been more than nervous when he was shot.

“Henry?” Elizabeth’s voice was scratchy. She felt like she hadn’t had water in days. Henry quickly grabbed a cup of water from the table next to her bed, helping her take a sip using the straw. “Henry, are you okay?”

“Babe, that’s what I’m supposed to ask you,” Henry nearly laughed out. “I’m not the one who was shot in the back…”

“Well, whatever meds they have me on, I can’t feel a thing, so I think I’m good for now…” She saw his face twist into an expression she couldn’t quite recognize. A grimace, maybe. Twenty-three years of marriage to Henry made him an easy read, especially for an ex-CIA agent. She knew then that something was wrong. “Henry, what’s going on?”

“I… babe… um…” Henry stuttered, and breathed a sigh of relief when a doctor entered the room at that very moment, saving him from telling her… well telling her whatever he couldn’t tell her. Quite frankly, at the moment, she was terrified.

“Madam Secretary, glad to see you awake,” the doctor greeted her. His words were cheerful, but his expression was grim. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, honestly, at the moment I’m a little confused,” she admitted. “What’s going on?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she certainly didn’t want to not know.

“I meant how are you feeling physically? How is your pain?” he asked.

“Whatever meds you have me on, they’re working, if that’s what you’re asking. I can’t feel much of anything!” She laughed, but the doctor’s frown grew.

“Can you feel your arms, ma’am?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, I can. I was just kind of generalizing. Why, what’s going on?” She was starting to panic. She looked to Henry, who was also looking rather grim at the moment. 

“Ma’am, you were shot in the back,” the doctor began.

“Yeah, I know that,” she interrupted.

“Okay, well then, the bullet perforated one of your kidneys before hitting your spinal cord. We were able to repair the kidney, but the spinal cord, well, it was essentially cut in half…”

“Which means…?” she asked, trying to put the pieces together. She knew what the spinal cord did, of course. People who injured their spinal cords often had mobility issues, even from minor injuries. Cut in half? Well, that would mean… no, that couldn’t be right. She must be wrong. That kind of injury, well, it couldn’t happen to her.

“Ma’am, your spinal cord was cut between vertebrates T-7 and T-8, which means that the connection from your brain to the nerves below your waist was severed. From what we can tell, the link was completely severed, which means that…”

“I won’t be able to walk,” Elizabeth finished for him, hoping for him to disagree, but he didn’t. Instead, he slowly nodded, and she felt her stomach drop. She wasn’t on pain meds, she understood now. She just couldn’t feel her legs.

She looked back at Henry, gripping his hand nearly as tightly as he was gripping hers. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Now was not the time to panic. No, now was the time to reassure her husband. Oh, god, her husband. What was he going to do? He would have to help her so much more… What if he left? 

Henry could read her eyes. He took his free hand and placed it on her arm. “I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question. Of course Henry had known. He just hadn’t known how to tell her, and she really couldn’t blame him. 

“Yeah, yeah I did. So do the kids,” Henry added. She nodded, making sure that the tears behind her eyes didn’t fall. She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry. 

“Well,” she said after a moment, “I s’pose this complicates things…”

“We’ll figure it out, Elizabeth,” Henry quietly reassured her. She wanted to believe him. She really wanted to believe him, but at the moment, it was a little bit difficult. Scratch that, a lot difficult. 

“I love you,” was all she could manage to say, glad that the doctor had left the room to give them some privacy. Henry smiled.

“I love you too.”

* * *

Holy crap, Nadine’s wrist hurt. Oh, and her shoulder that she had so gracefully landed on when essentially thrown by the raving lunatic that was Henry McCord. Okay, she should clarify, Henry McCord is not a raving lunatic. Most of the time. But hurt his family, and you will feel the full force of his wrath. 

Not that Nadine had hurt his family. She had nothing to do with the outburst, other than trying to save a completely innocent doctor who had just given Henry some awful news. Honestly, she knew she was no match for the man. For goodness’ sake, she was 5’4, and weighed less than 110 pounds. She was no match for Henry McCord, who was at least 6 feet tall and probably weighed a good 40 pounds more than her.

So why did she, of all people, try to stop him? Quite frankly, because she had been sitting closest to him, save his children, who were all in the same sort of shock that he was. Granted, so was everybody in that room, but the family, for obvious reasons, was hit the hardest by the news that Elizabeth had been partially paralyzed. 

One thing was for certain, though: Nadine had not been expecting the literal ethics professor to throw her to the floor.

It wasn’t like she was completely in a rational mindset either, at that point. Her boss, who she cared about more than she would ever admit, had been shot in front of her eyes. After several hours of waiting, they had all been informed that Elizabeth McCord was paralyzed from the waist down. Who  _ would _ be rational after news like that?

Of course, Nadine did not have much time to dwell on the shock she was feeling. Dragging Blake along with her, she had made her way to the corner where Jay, Daisy, and Matt had set up shop. Not that they were doing any work at that moment. They were more of… sitting there with their mouths gaping open.

“Okay,” she said, breaking the trances that they all seemed to be in. “I know we’re all in a little bit of shock, myself included. But the only thing we can do for the Secretary at the moment is continue to do our jobs. Jay, I want you to liaise with the FBI and find out who the heck is behind this. Matt, we’re going to need to put out some kind of statement assuring people that the Secretary is alive. We don’t need to go into specifics about her condition, just that she is recovering. Daisy, what does the press know about what happened?”

“Well, to be honest, not much,” Daisy responded as Jay and Matt went to do their respective tasks. “Obviously they know that there were shots fired at Dalton. They know that Vice-President Delgado is dead, and that MSec was shot. There… there are videos.”

“Dammit,” Nadine said under her breath, making the eyebrows of the staff raise. Nadine never swore.

“I’ll give them whatever Matt writes when it’s ready, Nadine,” Daisy assured her, and Nadine nodded. 

“Blake,” Nadine turned to the Secretary’s assistant. “I need you to run back to the office and grab a couple of files off of my desk. They should be right on top. Something tells me we won’t be leaving this place for a while…” Nadine trailed off, but Blake nodded.

“Whatever you say, ma’am.” He turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. “Should I grab some extra clothes for the Secretary? You know, in case she…”

“Yes, Blake, that would be great,” Nadine agreed. She wasn’t sure if Elizabeth would be coming home in the near future or not, but if it made Blake feel better, she was all for it. That kid really needed to settle down. But, then again, she was one to talk.

She felt her phone vibrate in her blazer pocket. Pulling it out, she read the caller ID, and sighed before answering.

“Yes, Russell?”

* * *

Russell was never going on a vacation again! He leaves the office for two,  _ two  _ days, and the leader of the free world almost gets shot! Not to mention the Vice-President gets killed and the Secretary of State gets very, very hurt. 

He would never admit it, but he cared very deeply about Bess. Oh, he had loathed her at first. Mostly because she had a way of working around him. Everyone else in DC was afraid of Russell Jackson, but not Bess. She operated on something that it seemed every other politician had lost: morality. She didn’t work for personal gain; she worked to make the world a better place. It was insane, in his mind. But somehow, it always seemed to work out for her.

Of course he was upset that Conrad had gotten shot at. But Conrad hadn’t gotten shot; his detail had protected him. And Mark… well, honestly, Russell didn’t know the Vice-President all that well. Mark had been a career politician, something that neither Conrad nor Bess was. And Bess was… special. She always seemed full of, for lack of a better term, hope. She always had this sort of sparkle in her eye, and her brain was working at a mile a minute. He had been unsure of her in the beginning, but he had proved him wrong again and again. 

Not that he liked being wrong. He absolutely  _ hated _ being wrong. But he wasn’t all too upset that he was wrong about Bess. She was good at her job, and she was quite the person. The fact that she would never walk again… well, he sure hoped that it wouldn’t kill her spirit.

But he had other things to think about. He had one main thing he had to figure out: WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON? Normally, the first person he would go to, other than the president, would have been Bess. She had instincts like no others. But, for obvious reasons, he couldn’t ask  _ her  _ at the moment, so he did the next best thing: call her right hand man. Or woman, for that matter.

“Yes, Russell?”

“Nadine, are you busy?” He normally wouldn’t have asked, but given the present circumstances, it couldn’t hurt.

“Well, besides trying to coordinate the State Department’s response to the Secretary of State getting shot, I’m free as a bird. What’s going on?” Nadine sounded flustered and exhausted, two words he would almost never pin on his immaculately-put-together State counterpart.

“Can you book it to a makeshift NSC meeting here at GW? I’ve got the president, Ellen Hill, Gordon Becker, and Ephraim Ware. Normally, the Secretary would attend, but…” Russell trailed off.

“Where?”

“I believe it’s called Conference Room B. I don’t know, ask a nurse. According to my wife, they know everything.” He let out a wry chuckle.

“I’ll be there in five. I just have to finish up a conversation quickly,” she added, hanging up the phone. 

Russell sighed. This was going to be a long week. Carol was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now I have a question for you guys. How should I have Elizabeth react to all of this? Should I have her go all dark, or actually deal with it well? I can write either! Please leave thoughts in the comments! Thanks!


	5. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids go back to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I have been dealing with a lot lately, so I haven't had much time to write. I hope you like this chapter! Even though it's been forever, I still have not obtained the rights to Madam Secretary or any of its characters. I know you are all so surprised!
> 
> As always, feedback is so, so appreciated!

It was nearly 11 PM when Stevie finally got the call from her dad that her mom was awake. They had been at the hospital for almost eight hours, between the time in the waiting room, and the time sitting with their mom. Eventually, Stevie had taken Ally and Jase home, knowing that they really,  _ really  _ needed sleep if they were going to make it through the next few days. 

Not that any of them had managed to fall asleep. They had all wandered the house for an hour, before Stevie had finally suggested that they all set up a movie in the family room. They had gotten through the first hour of “You’ve Got Mail” (Stevie and Ally’s choice, definitely not Jase’s), when Stevie’s phone started buzzing.

“Dad? What’s going on?” she had asked, slightly panicked.

“Mom’s awake.” Her dad sounded relieved, to say the least. But there was an undertone that answered her question before she even asked it.

“Was the doctor right?”

“Huh?”

“Can she… will she be able to walk?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. She heard her dad sigh, and her stomach dropped.

“Yeah… yeah, he was right. They’ve run tests now, and she’s probably never going to be able to walk.” Stevie’s dad choked on his own words, and honestly, she wanted to jump through the phone and give him a hug.

“How’s… how’s Mom?”

“Surprisingly upbeat, but probably somewhat in denial. She was asking if you guys were still here,” he added.

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes, Dad,” she said, gesturing towards the door to get the message across to Ally and Jase. They nodded, and grabbed hoodies before running out the door. “We’re on our way. See you when we get there.”

“See you soon,” he responded, before she hung up the line. She grabbed her own jacket, and booked it out the door and into the car.

* * *

Stevie might have pushed it a little on the speed limit, but Jason really didn’t care, and apparently the police didn’t notice. They made it to the hospital in record time. Stevie led the pack of McCord children to the front desk.

“Excuse me, where can we find our mother?” Stevie asked. Jason would have laughed if it wasn’t for the situation. Stevie didn’t even need to clarify  _ who _ their mother was.

“Miss McCord! Oh, yes, you go down that hallway, up the elevator to floor three, and take a right at the first opportunity to. I guess you could also just look for the security agents up and down the hall, though.”

Jason watched as Stevie nodded, thanked the nurse, and let Jason lead the way, following the directions they had been given. Stevie led Ally, who was still in tears, and they followed him down the hall and into the elevator. While they were in the elevator, he looked up at Stevie.

“She’s not gonna walk, is she?” He hoped his expression wouldn’t give away his terror, but he felt his stomach drop to the floor when she gave a solemn nod. 

Ally’s sobbing grew louder again, and Jason, in a move that was totally out of his comfort zone, but needed at the moment, grabbed her free hand. She turned to look at him, and he looked straight into her eyes.

“Ally, Mom’s hurt. We already knew that. But now, we need to be there for her, instead of needing her to be there for us. We can deal with it. She’ll need us.” 

He watched both of his sisters’ eyes go wide, and he could understand why. If any one of them was going to issue words of wisdom, it was usually Stevie. Sometimes Ally. As the resident baby of the family and anarchist, he usually wasn’t one for doling out actually-wise words. They probably were going to say something, but the dinging of the elevator broke the silence, alerting them that they had arrived at the third floor.

They wasted no time walking down the hall. It wasn’t hard to figure out where they were headed; they figured that the offshoot hallway lined with their mom’s DS agents was a dead giveaway. They were right. 

Jason was the first to reach the door. It was closed, probably for security reasons, but there was a window, and he peered inside.

It was almost startling how normal the picture looked. Had it not been for the hospital bed and all of the machines, he could have believed he was looking at an everyday scene in the life of the McCords. Of course, one would have to replace the bed with a couch, the beeping of several machines with the sounds of silly romance movies on the TV, and the look of fear on his dad’s face with a look of joy. 

But that wasn’t what he was looking at. Here they were, in a hospital, hours after wondering if their mom was going to survive the night. Hours after finding out their mom would never be able to walk again. And he had to admit, he had never been more terrified.

Stevie and Ally had caught up with him, and it was Stevie who finally knocked and opened the door. His parents both looked up, a smile crossing his mom’s face.

“Hey, you guys!” Mom greeted them. 

“Mom!” Stevie and Ally rushed to their mom’s bedside, though Jason hung back. He and his dad made eye contact, a silent message passing between them. He turned back to the girls. Ally was, again, in tears. Apparently she hadn’t taken his advice to heart, though he couldn’t blame her. Quite frankly, he didn’t really want to take his advice to heart, either. Stevie had squatted down next to their mom, but then had noticed a chair nearby, and had pulled it over to sit down. Henry sat on the opposite side, rubbing Ally’s back as she sobbed. Mom was running one of her hands through Ally’s hair, the other gripping Stevie’s hand. She looked up, realizing that Jason was missing. She offered him a small smile, and he did his darn best to return the expression. He wasn’t all too sure he succeeded.

“I’m okay, you guys. I’m okay,” his mom kept repeating, but he wasn’t sure he believed her.

He wasn’t sure how long passed, but they were there for quite some time before his dad finally said, “Okay, let’s let your mom get some rest. You can all come back tomorrow.” 

“Come on, Dad! Can’t we stay here?” Ally practically begged. Dad began to shake his head, but was interrupted by Mom.

“You know, I think they cleared this hallway. You know, for security reasons. But I’m guessing that this isn’t the only room in the hall with a bed…” She trailed off. “I could ask if they could set one up for you guys…”

“Please do, Mom!” Stevie exclaimed. 

“Henry, could you…” Mom began.

“Already on it,” Henry interrupted, standing up and opening the door. “Hey Ted, I’ve got a question.” The door shut, preventing them from hearing the rest of the conversation. They sat in silence for what couldn’t have been more than a minute, before Henry popped his head back in. “They’re setting it up. You kids want to go help out.” It wasn’t really a suggestion, so they all nodded, beginning to leave the room.

“Henry, why don’t you go with them?” Mom suggested. Jason saw his dad frown, but then his parents shared one of their “looks”, and Dad nodded his head. 

“Okay, babe. Call if you need anything,” Dad added.

“Jase, can you come here a minute?” Mom asked. Jason stopped in his tracks, spinning around as the door closed, everyone else out in the hall.

“Yeah, Mom?” he asked, walking to take the seat that Henry had abandoned.

“Jase, are you okay?” his mom asked, her eyes full of concern.  _ That’s what I’m supposed to be asking you _ , he thought.

“What?” his mom asked. He hadn’t realized he had muttered that under his breath.

“That’s what I’m supposed to be asking you,” he said after a pause. His shoulders slumped, simultaneous with his mom’s.

“Oh, Jason,” she said, her voice reflecting the tears that were filling her eyes. The fact that tears weren’t flowing down her cheeks was impressive, giving how much her eyes were swimming. “I’m alive. I’m still here,” she reassured him.

“But… but…” he stuttered.

“But it will never be the same. I know.” She held out her arms, and he let her wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace. He tried with all his might not to cry, but the tears forced their way to the surface, and a few escaped his eyes, landing on his mom’s shoulder.

After who knows how long, she pushed him away a bit, just far enough to be able to see his eyes. Her arms remained on his.

“Jason, I’m alive. Yes, things are going to be a lot different, but one thing isn’t going to change, and that’s the fact that I love you. And I’m proud of you. I know that you can handle this, but you don’t need to do it alone. I’m sure you’re not the only one who is dealing with these emotions right now; we’re all dealing with it in our own ways, but it’s a reality for all of us. But we’re going to make it.”

“How do you know?” he asked, his voice trembling more that he would have liked it to.

“Because we’re Team McCord. And because you guys are the strongest people I know.”

“I think that goes both ways, Mom,” he added, standing up. Then, just because he was Jason McCord, he added, “Ally is one of the strongest people you know?”

Her eyes twinkled in a way that relieved him to see. After Iran, her eyes hadn’t looked that way for months. It was like a shell of his mom. The twinkle had come back after a while, just about the time she started being okay again. The fact that her eyes were twinkling now meant that somehow, some way, Elizabeth McCord was still there. He heard her laugh, just a little big. “Yes, Jason. Even Allison!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with the story, but I am super proud of this, so whatever! I converted four people to watching Madam Secretary this last weekend! I feel like a good person!


	6. Never Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends visit Elizabeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know I totally should have had this out nearly five days ago, but life got very, very stressful. If you live in America, you'll know what I'm talking about. On top of that, I had writer's block almost all of last week, and I was busy pretty much every day, so... not a lot of writing got done until two days ago. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a rather long one, which I don't think is a bad thing!
> 
> I don't own Madam Secretary or any of its characters. I am just having fun here.
> 
> Please leave a review! They make my day!

Russell had been dreading seeing Bess. Not because he didn’t want to see her, but because he wasn’t sure which “her” he would be witnessing. He was haunted by the memory of her blank, glassy eyes in the days after Iran. The way she had seemed to lose almost all of herself.

He had somehow been able to relate to her, at least back then. It was actually the moment when he had decided that they were friends, though he never vocalized the thought. But this? He couldn’t relate to her, he couldn’t help her. He was wracking his brain, trying to think of what to say, worried about what he was about to see as he and Conrad made their way down the hall towards Bess’s room.

“You think she’s going to be alright?” Conrad asked, a large note of concern in his voice.

“I…” Russell had to think for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I hope she is, sir.”

“Me too.” Conrad had known Bess much, much longer than he had. From what he had determined from the snippets of private conversations that he had overheard, Conrad looked out for Bess from the time she was a young college kid, newly recruited for the CIA. Even Russell was aware that Bess’s parents had died when she was 15, and Conrad had taken a paternal role in her life. Yes, Russell was worried about losing a piece of his friend. But to Conrad, Elizabeth was like a daughter he had never had. Conrad was worried about losing a piece of the woman he considered his daughter.

Lost in thought, Russell hadn’t noticed the slowing in pace as he and the President reached Bess’s room. The door was closed, but the entire hall was lined with security agents. Diplomatic Security, mostly, but a few Secret Service due to Conrad’s presence. He turned to his boss, waiting for him to make a move. Conrad just… stood there, peering through the square of glass in the door. Russell did the same.

The first things he noticed were her eyes. They were flashing, bright and active. _Thank God._ There wasn’t a trace of that blank stare she had possessed for days after her ordeal in Iran. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he noticed how still she was. Bess was never still. She was always walking circles around foreign despots, keeping the world from burning down. It’s not like he had expected her to be running marathons, but this? This was… eerie. 

Conrad finally opened the door, and both Bess and Henry turned to see who was entering the room. Henry’s brows furrowed with a look of distrust at the sight of his wife’s boss and her boss’s accomplice, but Bess’s face lit up.

“Don’t you guys have a country to be running?” she asked with a laugh as Conrad dragged the only unoccupied chair in the room right next to Bess’s bedside, taking a seat. Russell leaned against the pale wall closest to the door.

“We got a little sidetracked by…” Russell trailed off. A witty comment about a gunman was _not_ going to be received well by anyone in the room. God, the stress must be getting to him.

“We wanted to make sure you were okay,” Conrad said instead, directing the conversation away from Russell’s questionable sensitivity skills. Russell shot Conrad a look of gratitude. He did NOT want to be on the receiving end of the wrath of Henry McCord. He had seen how well that’d ended for Nadine.

“Well, I’m alive, if that’s what you're asking,” she responded with a smirk. She sighed, her face falling. “I know you were all told about… the situation.”

Both men nodded slowly, but it was Conrad who spoke. “Yes, and I have no idea what to say to you other than I want to kill whatever bastard did this to you.” Russell watched Conrad lay a hand on her knee, realize that she couldn’t feel it, and move his hand up to her arm. 

Bess turned to Russell. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

“It got cut a little short.”

“Sorry ‘bout that…” Bess looked down at the blue hospital blanket draped over her legs.

“I never wanted to go anyway,” he said, hoping to at least win a smile. He succeeded, her eyes lighting up.

“So, is Carol out for blood?”

“I think she understands this time, Bess.”

The room was silent for a while, nobody knowing quite what to say. They were all exchanging glances, but no one spoke up. The only sounds in the room were the blip of the heart-rate monitor and the ticking of the clock.

“Conrad,” Bess began, breaking the silence, “about my job…”

“Bess, you are taking some time off!” Conrad interrupted her, his voice raised. Russell couldn’t blame him. Bess was _incredibly_ stubborn when it came to taking time off. She hated being away from the office.

“I’m aware of that, Conrad! Geez, if you didn’t stop me from coming back right away, Henry would. And if neither of you stopped me, I think my kids would gang up on me, along with pretty much every doctor in this hospital. And this time, you all can physically restrain me!” Her voice was at a yell, obviously perturbed. Russell wasn’t surprised, but he could tell that Henry and Conrad were beyond shocked at Bess’s outburst. She looked down at her hands, realizing that she had just yelled at her boss, not to mention the leader of the free world. Her voice was much softer. “I know I can’t come back immediately. I just wanted to say that I still want the job, if we can make it work.”

“The thought of making you step down hadn’t even crossed my mind, Bess.” Conrad reassured her. Looking at Henry’s face, Russell could tell that the thought _had_ crossed her husband’s mind, but Henry said nothing. Conrad added, “We’ll make it work just fine.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and Conrad nodded.

“We should let you get some rest,” Conrad announced, earning a scowl from Bess. Conrad noticed her face. “Hey, like you said, we _do_ have a country to run!”

“We’ll come back tomorrow, if that’s alright with you,” Russell heard himself add. Both Bess and Henry nodded, and Conrad stood up from his chair, pushing it back to where it came from.

“Take care of yourself, Bess,” Russell said as he followed Conrad out the door.

“Hey, tell Carol I’m sorry for cutting your vacation…” she began.

“I’m not doing that!” he yelled as the door closed behind him.

* * *

Blake was a wreck. He had returned to the hospital the night before, having picked up anything and everything he thought Elizabeth might need. Oh, and Nadine’s stuff, though that had been a much easier task.

Now he was sitting, waiting for… well, he wasn’t exactly sure _what_ he was waiting for. He knew he wasn’t hiding his nerves well. His nervous jitters were amplified by the influx of caffeine that had entered his body over the last several hours. He was probably breathing a little faster than was totally necessary, but he couldn’t help it.

He watched the rest of the inner circle, frantically trying to contain the fallout of the day before. Daisy was constantly on the phone with nosy reporters, Matt was writing up some kind of statement on the Secretary’s condition, Jay was liaising with the FBI, trying to figure out what was going on, and Nadine was juggling pretty much everything else. Besides getting an occasional drink for the others, Blake was at a loss as to what to do.

His hands fidgeted with his watch, his foot tapping on the floor of the waiting room. His fingers fumbled with his tie, as he loosened it and tightened it on repeat. 

Here’s the thing: he knew his boss was alive. He knew that she would be fine… well, relatively fine. She was the strongest person he knew. He looked up to her on so many levels. But she was human, and who would be perfectly okay with never being able to walk again? He could still remember her constant unease and yelling after Iran. Boy, he hoped that it would be different this time. That she would _really_ be fine.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sensation of a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, his eyes meeting Nadine’s. Her brown eyes were full of concern, which he was sure his eyes mirrored, but at least she had the facade of calm.

“Blake, I’m going to call Henry and ask if I can talk to the Secretary. You want to come?”

“You know he’s not going to let her think about work right now…” he stated, confused.

“That’s not why I’m going up,” she clarified. He understood where she was coming from. While technically, they were supposed to maintain a level of professional distance from Elizabeth, they all cared for her more than they would ever admit. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like to come.”

“Okay, I’ll make the call. I don’t want to wake her up.”

A few minutes later, Nadine waved him over. He practically ran to where she was standing, earning a small chuckle from the chief of staff.

“Henry said we can come up, as long as we keep it brief and don’t talk shop. Understood?” she asked.

“Of course, ma’am,” he replied, and they followed the directions they had been given, knowing they were in the right place when they reached the hallway lined with DS agents. They mostly walked in silence, but Nadine spoke as they made their way down the hall.

“She’s planning on coming back, you know.”

“She is?” He hoped his voice didn’t convey his utter shock, but he could feel his eyes bugging out. “Even after…” he trailed off.

Nadine nodded. “She’ll be taking some time off, but yes, she’ll be back.” They had reached the door, and Nadine gave a quiet knock. 

“Come in!” They both recognized the tone, smiling at the sound of Elizabeth’s voice. Nadine slowly opened the door, and they walked into the room.

Henry stood up as they entered. “I’ll leave you guys in peace, if…” he paused, giving a pointed stare at his wife. “If, you behave, and don’t talk about work right now!”

Elizabeth gave a dramatic sigh. “Yes, Henry.” He leaned down, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and made his exit, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he had left, Elizabeth turned to Nadine, who was sitting down in Henry’s vacated chair. Blake took the other chair in the room. “So, how’s the news looking?” Her eyes glimmered, the look she gave when she knew she was disobeying _someone’s_ orders.

“Ma’am, I really have no desire to face the wrath of your husband again…” Nadine trailed off, through her eyes showed that she was holding in laughter.

“Yeah, about that, what’s this I hear about my husband throwing you to the floor last night?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a big deal…” Nadine quickly responded, though even Blake could hear the fib in her voice. There was no way the ex-CIA operative was going to miss that one.

“Nadine, you are an amazing and talented woman, and you have a whole lot of strengths, but lying is not one of them! What happened?” Elizabeth sounded slightly concerned, and Blake didn’t blame her. It took a lot to make Henry McCord reach his breaking point, and even then, Blake had never seen the man resort to violence.

“Um… well, a doctor came out and gave him your post-surgical update. It, well, it was then that they told him that your spinal cord was sliced, and obviously, he didn’t take that all too well…” Nadine trailed off.

Blake picked up the story for her. “He was rather, um, angry at the doctor. He stood up and started charging at the man, and because Nadine was closest, she tried to stop him. I don’t think your husband knew it was Nadine, ma’am…” He, too, trailed off into silence, watching his boss process what she had just been told.

“So it was my fault, then.” Elizabeth didn’t ask a question. She stated what she believed to be the truth. There was no hint of irony, no touch of sarcasm to be found in her voice. 

“No, of course not, ma’am!” Nadine jumped in. “And I don’t blame Henry, either, for that matter. The only person to blame is that… that bastard who caused all of this.” 

There were tears forming in the corners of Elizabeth’s eyes. Blake suspected that this might have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, but it didn’t change the fact that his boss, who almost never cried, was fighting back tears. He watched her reach for a tissue to get rid of the water, but the box was too far away for her to reach. Without being asked, Blake quickly pulled a tissue out of the box, and handed it to his boss. Blue eyes, swimming with tears and gratitude, met his, and she took the tissue from his hand, using it to dry her eyes.

“Do you want us to go find Henry, ma’am?” Blake inquired.

“No, no, he has enough to worry about. I’ll be fine,” she reassured them. Elizabeth let out a wry chuckle. “Henry’s been in contact with like five contractors, trying to make our house work now, with, well, with my condition. He’s attempting to have it ready before I come home, but I have my doubts.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, ma’am!” Nadine said with a smirk. “That man is a miracle worker.”

“Yeah, but he can’t build houses, and I don’t think God is going to help him with this one, so I’m going to be sleeping downstairs for a while.” She laughed.

The room settled into a comfortable silence. Blake’s eyes traveled around the small space, only big enough for a bed, two chairs, and a bucket load of machines. His eyes landed on Nadine’s shoes, and his stomach went for a whirl. He wasn’t sure if Nadine was aware, but her white heels still had some drops of blood on them. She hadn’t changed since the previous day.

Elizabeth’s eyes must have followed his, and she gasped slightly when she saw the blood on Nadine’s heels. Nadine, too, looked down, and quickly looked back up.

“I… I am so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t think about…” she began, but was cut off by the Secretary.

“Nadine, it’s fine. I don’t blame you,” Elizabeth said softly. “I… I remember that you two were in the car with me.”

Blake was shocked that she remembered those minutes, and Nadine seemed to mirror his reaction.

“You remember?” he asked incredulously, then realized what he had said. His voice went softer. “I really had hoped you wouldn’t…”

“It’s not your fault, Blake.” Elizabeth told him, reaching out her hand and placing it on his knee, which was shaking from anxiety. Her eyes flashed the “we’ll talk later” look that he knew very well, and he nodded.

“As for you, Nadine, I’ll get you some money to replace those heels. How much were they?”

“Ma’am, that’s really not necessary…” Nadine protested.

“Yes it is. How much were they?”

Nadine hesitated for a moment. “Three hundred and fifty dollars, ma’am.”

“Holy cow, Nadine, are they made of gold and diamonds?” Elizabeth asked, her mouth gaping open.

Nadine expertly deflected the question. "Anyway, I really can pay for my own shoes."

“It’s my blood, Nadine.” That certainly quieted Nadine’s protests, and Blake could tell that she wasn’t sure how to respond.

Luckily, that was when Henry decided to show up in the room, and Blake and Nadine stood up to leave.

“Take care, you two!” Elizabeth called out to them as they opened the door and walked out.

“You too!” Blake called back as the door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! One of my favorite things to do every morning is check my email to see if anyone has reviewed my stories!


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is probably terrible. It's... it's been a long week. A lot of people I know have started getting COVID, and it's taking its toll on my state of mind. I am sleep-deprived, anxious, and exhausted. Please have mercy on my writing.
> 
> I also feel the need to clarify that I am in no way a doctor. This story is written for a good story, not to be medically accurate. I am glossing over some details that I don't know enough about to write, and others that I just don't think add to the story. If there is a specific thing that you think I should add, write it in the comments section! 
> 
> I do not own Madam Secretary or any of its characters.
> 
> Please read, review, and enjoy!

“You ready?” Henry asked, coming through the open door, making Elizabeth startle.

“I’ve been ready for a week!” she exclaimed, making him smile. She sighed. Leaving the hospital was something she had been looking forward to from the moment she had woken up. She hated it there. But going home also meant facing all of the things that were going to be different now.

The realizations had started pretty quickly. She had known that she wouldn’t be able to walk, but that wasn’t the end of it. She could hardly sit up on her own, which made her feel completely and utterly helpless most of the time. It had become rather difficult to reach things that were more than a couple feet away, which contributed to the feelings of uselessness. Eventually, the doctor had said she would be able to propel her own wheelchair, but at the moment, Henry was pushing her the majority of the time. She hated feeling so… so vulnerable.

“Hey,” Henry broke through her thoughts. “Stop thinking about it.” 

She wondered at how he knew her so well, but she couldn’t seem to stop going over and over everything that was wrong. Henry had helped her get dressed for the first time earlier. She was grateful for his help, but it was another reminder that everything had changed. That she had basically no independence. Now, as he lifted her from the hospital bed and into a wheelchair, she struggled to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. God, what was wrong with her? She was always able to keep her emotions at bay… until now, apparently.

“Babe,” Henry said, setting her down in the chair. “Babe, look at me.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, which finally made her look up. 

“Henry, I can’t do this,” she quietly sobbed out. 

Henry knelt down beside her, and she felt him wipe away her tears. “It’ll be okay,” he reassured her.

“No, no it won’t!” she cried out. “Nothing will be okay! Nothing will be alright! Everything is different! Everything has changed…” she dissolved into wracking sobs. She felt Henry’s hand on her back, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t sure she  _ wanted _ to calm down. She leaned her head on her husband, letting his strength seep into her. Right then and there, she needed it.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine to cry,” he whispered into her.

“No it’s not! It’s so stupid, Henry! The vice-president died last week! People are killed every day! I see tragedy every day at work. And I’m still alive! I… I have no reason to be crying like this!” She was gasping between sobs and sentences, gripping Henry for dear life. “I should be grieving the death of Delgado, the hundreds of deaths I hear about every day! And yet this,” she exclaimed, gesturing vaguely towards her legs, “this, is what I’m upset about!” Out of steam, she collapsed back into her husband’s arms.

“It makes perfect sense, Babe,” he responded. She pushed her body away from him, flabbergasted.

“No it doesn’t!” she countered.

“You’re grieving the loss of a lifestyle. Everyone does it when things change drastically.”

“Okay,” she said, finally catching her breath, “Now you just sound like a religion professor!”

Henry laughed. “Maybe ‘cause I am?” 

She laughed, and he smiled back at her. Looking up at him, she asked, “Can we go home now?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” he joked, unlatching the brakes of her wheelchair and pushing it out the door.

* * *

The ride home had been relatively uneventful, minus the new sedan and the extra security. Henry was grateful for the normality; hopefully it would keep his wife from having another breakdown. He was justifiably worried about her. She didn’t cry over just anything. For her to be crying, she must be in a lot of pain.

Not that she shouldn’t be! She had every right to be kicking and screaming right now! Well, maybe kicking was out of the question… but she had every right to be screaming at the world right now. Honestly, it wasn’t what Elizabeth did that scared him. It was what she  _ didn’t _ do. He knew she was keeping parts of this to herself. He had seen her do it time and time again when faced with hardship and tragedy. And every time, it ate away at her, until she finally broke. 

“Henry?” Her voice broke his train of thought, and he turned to look at his wife. Even with the dark circles under her eyes, her eyes red from tears, she was beautiful.

“Yeah, babe?”

“How are we going to make this work?” Her eyes held so much discouragement, so much terror. He could tell that she was genuinely terrified of this new reality, and he couldn’t blame her.

“One day at a time,” he answered carefully.

“That’s not an answer!” she exclaimed, a smile playing at her lips.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” he playfully asked.

“I… I don’t know…” she sighed, and Henry found her hand, wrapping his own around her fingers. 

“Elizabeth, you are the strongest person I know. You’ll figure it out. And besides, you don’t have to do it alone.” He paused, noticing the question in her eyes. “You have me, for starters. And you have the kids. You have the greatest staff in the history of staff. And, for god’s sake, you have the president of the United States on your side. You are most certainly not alone.”

“Yeah, well, after a while, I may wish I was!”

“I doubt it,” he gently countered.

“Yeah… me too.”

* * *

Stevie stood in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes taking in the room. Quite a bit had changed in the last few days; the whole house had been renovated to be more accessible to her mom. Yes, there were some benefits to being friends with the President. Namely, having a group of contractors and construction workers able to transform the house in a matter of days.

“Stevie?” Ally’s voice made Stevie jump. She hadn't noticed her sister walk in.

“Yeah?”

“What time are mom and dad getting home?”

“Uh… dad texted that they were leaving like ten minutes ago, so they should be here any minute. Where’s Jase?” Stevie inquired.

“I think he’s still upstairs… should I get him?” Ally asked.

“Let him be. It’ll probably be too crowded anyway with all of us down here…” Stevie trailed off, not wanting to think about all the change that was hitting her family like a boulder.

“So…” Ally broke the silence that followed Stevie’s comment. “You wanna make popcorn? I’m sure Mom would like  _ that _ !”

“I mean… why not? Sure beats standing here waiting,” Stevie agreed, heading to the pantry to pull out the giant bag of popcorn kernels.

The sound of the front door opening barely registered in Stevie’s brain as she popped the popcorn, but the sound of the door  _ shutting _ most certainly did. Tapping Ally’s shoulder to get her attention, they both ran out of the kitchen and into the front entryway.

The sight of her dad balancing five bags, trying to send a text,  _ and  _ pushing their mom all at once was rather comical. “Babe, I can carry something!” Mom was telling him, but he shook his head.

“Nope, I’ve got it!” he replied, before spotting the girls waiting inside.

“Uhh, Dad, you look like you could use a hand!” Stevie exclaimed, racing to grab three of the bags, while Ally grabbed the other two.

“I’ve been trying to tell him that!” her mom complained with mock seriousness, before bursting into giggles. “He’s determined to be some kind of macho man.”

“The correct term is ‘knight in shining armor’, babe,” he replied, leading to a sigh from Mom and giggles from her and Stevie.

Setting down the bags on the stairs, Stevie turned back to where her mom was nervously eying the house. Stevie couldn’t blame her for that; the ground floor, especially, looked very different from the last time her mom had been there. She looked at her dad, their eyes meeting. “Hey Dad, you want to go put everything away while Ally and I show Mom around our new ‘abode’?”

“Sounds good to me. You okay with that, Babe?” he asked her mom.

“Sure! I need to see what this place looks like now!” Her mom’s smile and enthusiasm helped to settle Stevie’s nervous stomach. Exchanging places with her dad, she grabbed the handles of her mom’s wheelchair, and they were off.

Ally led the way, and the trio made their way all over the house, stopping in the living room, the kitchen, and the family room. In the kitchen, Stevie pointed out the section of counter that had been lowered. “So you can still use the kitchen,” she explained.

“But we still don’t want you to cook, Mom,” Ally snidely remarked, and their peals of laughter rang through the house. 

Their final stop was the front office. Well, what used to be the front office. Stevie was a little nervous about what her mom would think about the room. The contractors had told them that it would be at least six months before any sort of elevator could be installed in the house, so there was no way that her mom could sleep upstairs. Instead, the contractors had made some minor renovations to the office, and it could now serve as a bedroom.

“Are you mad?” Ally finally asked after they had entered the room.

“Why would I be mad?” their mom asked.

“Well… because it’s not how it used to be…” Stevie stammered.

“Honey, a lot of things are not the way they used to be. We’re going to have to be okay with that.” Her mom sounded confident, but Stevie suspected that she was trying to convince herself along with her daughters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are greatly appreciated! They brighten my day!


	8. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole family struggles to deal with the changes that occur after Elizabeth comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm aware that it's been almost two weeks since I've posted on this story, and I'm really sorry! I was sick for like the last week and a half, and my community has pretty much gone onto full-on lockdown. You would think that lockdown would give me more time to write, but apparently that's not the case! Anyway, enjoy this pretty long chapter to make up for the wait!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary or any of its characters. I am just a really big fan, who probably watches way to much Madam Secretary for my own good, but... whatever!
> 
> Please leave a comment! I love your feedback!

Henry knocked on the door of the former office, but there was no answer. He let out a sigh. In the five days since Elizabeth had come home, things had gone rather downhill. Sure, she had put on a good show for the kids that first day, but when he had helped her into bed the first night, she had nearly had a panic attack. He wasn’t sure why, but ever since then, she had essentially shut down. She all but refused to come out of her room, but he didn’t think she was sleeping much, either.

He slept in there, too. He had pulled out the old air mattress from their children’s days of endless sleepovers, inflated it right across from Elizabeth’s bed, and made his own bed right beside hers. He wasn’t about to leave her alone at night; he had never liked leaving her alone at night, but now? After what had happened? There was no way he was going to let her be on her own for that long.

“Elizabeth?” he called out as he opened the door, his eyes adjusting to the dim room. All of the lights were off, and the window shades were down. He could barely see his wife as he made his way across the old office, dodging a pillow that she had thrown at some point. He walked towards the bed, which was on the far end of the space. Elizabeth had turned onto her side, as best she could, and was staring at the wall, her back to him. She looked like she was asleep, though he highly doubted that was the case. More likely, she was just lying there, thinking.

“Elizabeth, the girls want to know if you want to come out for dinner,” he tried again. No response, the only sound in the room being her quiet breathing. “You need to eat, babe,” he gently reminded her.

“I’m not hungry.” Her response was barely audible, but he caught her words, and sighed again. Of course she wasn’t. She hadn’t had an appetite at all since she woke up, which was very concerning to him. Elizabeth  _ loved _ food.

“I know, but you need to eat something.”

“Don’t want to,” she mumbled, and he shook his head.

“Yeah, but you  _ have _ to.”

“No,” she stated, turning her head to watch him.

Henry let it go. Once she was hungry enough, she would eat. He was 99% sure she wouldn’t starve herself to death. “Fine,” he conceded. “You want some company?”

“Not really.” Her head turned back to the wall, and all he could see was her golden hair. As much as he wanted to protest, he knew he wouldn’t get very far, and he slowly shook his head, knowing she wouldn’t see the gesture.

“Well, if you need anything, just shout,” he said, trudging back to the exit and closing the door behind him.

“Well?” Stevie’s eyes met his as soon as he had closed the door. He shook his head, and her face fell. “I had really hoped she would come out today.”

“We need to give her time, Stevie,” he responded, but he was just as disappointed as she was.

“Yeah, I know that. But she hasn’t been out since the day she got home!” His daughter was frustrated, and he couldn’t blame her. “I just want my mom back,” she admitted ruefully, and he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

“I know,” he whispered, before adding, “I miss her too.”

* * *

A couple of days later, Jason crept towards the office door. He wasn’t sure if it was the best idea, but he hadn’t seen his mom in over a week. He had hid upstairs when she came home, a move he now regretted, and hadn’t even come down for dinner that night. He didn’t know why; it probably had to do with the thought of seeing his mom in a wheelchair in their own home. It made it too real. At least in the hospital bed, it was almost normal. He could convince himself that she was just sitting in bed. He had hidden, and now she was hiding.

But now he wanted his mom. He didn’t care how, and he would never admit it, but he just wanted his mom. So here he was, quietly knocking on the door before turning the knob.

The room was dimly lit, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. It was quiet, though the sound of his pounding heartbeat filled his ears. His eyes traced the room, finally landing on the bed in the corner of the room. 

He tip-toed across the room. Even from the distance, he was certain his mom was asleep. She wasn’t moving, except for breathing softly in and out. Her back was turned away from him, so he couldn’t even see her face, but watching her was oddly comforting. His mom was alive. He stood there, watching, and losing track of time.

“Jase?” His mom’s quiet voice broke through the silence, making him do a double take. He had been sure she was asleep, and besides, her back was turned! How on earth did she know he was there? 

Something else about her voice stood out to him, though. It lacked her usual strength, her usual confidence. He couldn’t quite place it, but something seemed… off. And why wouldn’t it be? It made perfect sense for her to be a little less put together at the moment, but it still didn’t sit right with Jason. When he was little, he had believed his mom was a superhero. Obviously, he had outgrown  _ that _ belief, but he still had this image of his mom being this indestructible, unbeatable force. Nothing ever took his mom down. Until this, apparently.

“Yeah?” he responded, hoping she had been looking for a response.

“Why are you in here?” He tried to ignore the accusatory tone of her voice; he knew she probably would assume that he had been sent by his dad. His dad had been trying to get her out of the room for days, but to no avail.

“I haven’t seen you in over a week…” he answered softly after a pause. His mom spent a few moments processing his words, and he watched as she slowly rolled first onto her back, and then onto her other side, her head turning to look at him. Their eyes met, the lack of depth in his mom’s eyes startling him as he moved closer to her bed.

“You didn’t come down.” She didn’t elaborate, but Jason knew exactly what she meant. He hadn’t come downstairs the first night she was home, and she probably knew why. Her eyes had moved to stare at the wall across the room, not meeting his gaze. He looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, unsure of what to say. Silence once again enveloped the room, before he whispered, “I miss you.”

His mom sighed, and he wondered if she had even heard his last comment. “I don’t blame you for not coming.”

“You don’t?” He was beyond confused.

“I wouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m messed up.” The seriousness in her voice made Jason realize that she actually believed what she was saying. That terrified him.

“No you’re not!” he quickly refuted, though he wasn’t sure how much he believed his own words. 

“Don’t lie, Jase.”

“I’m not! You’re my mom. You couldn’t be messed up if you tried to be,” he stated truthfully. In all honesty, he admired his mom exponentially. Sure, he might act like a jerk to her, but for pity’s sake, she was his mom! But, because he was himself, he added, “At least, not more messed up than you already were!”

“Gee, thanks, Jase,” his mom said sarcastically, but he saw the corners of her mouth raise slightly at his comment. He plopped down onto the air mattress his dad had set up next to his mom.

“So why haven’t you come out?” he asked sincerely.

“Because I don’t want to,” she responded quietly.

“Why?”

“Jase, you sound like a four-year-old with all of the ‘why’ questions.”

“Not an answer,” he pointed out. His mom had a knack for evading questions she didn’t want to answer, but he was determined.

She let out a huge breath of air before answering, “Because it’s too strange.”

“Mom,” he said, standing up once more, “you’re the one who told me in your hospital room that although things would be different and strange, we would make it through because we were Team McCord. But if you’re hiding away from all of us, it doesn’t make us much of a team.”

His mom seemed surprised that he even remembered that conversation, and her eyes went wide. He usually left the doling out wisdom to his dad, or even to Stevie or Ally. He usually stuck to sarcasm and snarky comments.

“Good grief, you’re growing up, Jase,” she commented, and probably would have said more if his dad’s voice had not interrupted them.

“Jason?” his dad yelled from the kitchen.

“Go,” his mom nodded at him. “And when you have a chance, could you tell your dad to come in here?”

“Sure!” he agreed, scurrying out of the room.

* * *

Stevie took the casserole out of the oven, checking to see if it was done. It was. Looking up, she saw Jason come out of the old office, and she became very, very perplexed. What the heck had Jason been doing in their mom’s room?

Even she hadn’t worked up the courage to enter that room. She had no idea how her mom would react, and she didn’t want to risk being met by the terrifying Elizabeth McCord from after the Iran incident. The one that yelled, screamed, and cried. Well, Stevie could handle the crying, but the yelling and screaming were kind of terrifying to her. It was just so unlike her mom!

Watching as Jason ran to their dad, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, she saw them talk for a couple minutes, before her dad turned to speak to her.

“Stevie, could you hold off on dinner for a couple minutes? Mom wants to talk to me.” Stevie quickly nodded, and her dad disappeared into her mom’s room.

“Sooooo…” she started, turning to Jason. “What the heck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” he defended himself. “We talked, that’s all!”

Ally, who until that point had been sitting quietly at the kitchen island, looked up. “She hasn’t even really been talking to dad, Jase,” she pointed out quietly.

“What did she say?” Stevie wanted to know.

“None of your business!” he quickly retorted. Stevie would have pressed harder, but the timer for the potatoes started dinging, and she had to check the food. 

The click of the office door made all three McCord kids look up, wanting answers from their dad but not sure if they should ask. He made it easier by talking as soon as he walked through the kitchen doorway.

“Is dinner almost ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” Stevie inquired.

“Your mom decided to come out for dinner.” Her dad sounded just as shocked as she felt. They had begged her mom for  _ days _ to come out of her room, to no avail. Why was it that now, on the day they  _ didn’t _ ask, that she decided to?

“What made her change her mind?” Ally asked.

“Honestly? No idea, but there is something you guys need to do,” he added.

“What?” Jason questioned.

“None of you guys can be in here when she comes out.”

“Wait, what?” Stevie was perplexed, and just a little bit shocked. What on earth was going on?

Her dad took a deep breath. “She doesn’t want you to see her until she’s settled at the table.” At all three of the McCord kid’s questioning glares, he shrugged. “Hey, I’m just the messenger, but if you want her to come out…”

“Of course we will!” Stevie interrupted, watching as her siblings nodded in agreement. “I just need to finish the potatoes, and we can retreat upstairs. Right, nerds?”

“Right, right!” Ally snapped out of whatever stupor she had been in. Jason chimed in with his agreement, and Stevie scrambled to mix the sour cream, chives, and butter into the mashed potatoes. Once she finished, she herded her younger brother and sister up the kitchen steps, and they congregated in Stevie’s room.

“So Jase…” Stevie started after plopping down on top of her bedspread, her siblings settling onto the fluffy rug that covered the floor, “what should we expect?”

“What?” Jason looked slightly confused, and slightly defensive.

“Like, is Mom okay? Is she acting normal?”

“Stevie,” Ally broke in, “If she was acting normal, she wouldn’t have been holed up in her room the entire week.”

“She’s… she’s… oh, I don’t know! She’s kind of… weird,” Jason admitted. “She told me that she was ‘messed up’, and actually seemed to believe it!” He put air quotes around “messed up”.

“So… not normal,” Ally stated. It wasn’t a question. Their mom was never like that. She always had this confidence that Stevie was envious of. Like, she never seemed to make a mistake, but if she did, she took the consequences and went on with life, never looking back. It was actually kind of unfair and annoying at times, and it had irked 19-year-old Stevie enough that she had stopped speaking to her mom for almost a month, but it was a part of who her mom was. She kind of wished she was the same way.

“Definitely not,” Stevie agreed, turning a look of concern to her siblings. 

“So… what do we do?” Ally asked. “I mean, how are we supposed to act around her?”

“We just try to act normal,” Stevie said decisively. “I don’t think Mom will like it if we act all strange around her.”

“So… just pretend like nothing’s wrong? So lie?” Jason asked sincerely.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really bad!” Stevie exclaimed, cupping her hands over her mouth when she realized that sound probably carried down the stairwell and into the kitchen. “No, we don’t lie, we just don’t bring it up,” she clarified, much more quietly. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” both of her siblings replied in unison.

“Kids! Dinner!” her dad’s voice stopped her from making some joke about them sounding like programmed robots. Wow, perfect timing on her dad’s part!

“Coming!” they all shouted, scrambling out of Stevie’s room and down the stairs.

* * *

Ally was the first to reach the bottom of the stairs, but was quickly rammed in the back by a speeding Jason. She quickly side-stepped, allowing her brother and sister to get past without any more collisions.

She had to blink a few times to adjust her eyes; the upstairs hall had been dim from lack of sunlight or overhead light, but down here, the pretty much every light that could be on was, in an attempt to compensate for the lack of daylight. It was  _ bright _ .

She scanned the room from her spot next to the wall, scooting away from the fridge to let her dad grab the water pitcher. Stevie had started moving food from the kitchen island to the table, and her dad was filling a bowl with ice to put into glasses. Jason was finding a seat at the table, choosing the chair on the right of their mom, who was sitting at the head of the table.

Her mom. It was the first time Ally had seen her mom in nearly a week. The last time, her mom had seemed fine. Almost… normal. She had offered up smiles and joked around like any other time. But now? Now, even though her mom’s eyes seemed to follow everyone around the bustling kitchen, she made no sound, and the playful grin was gone. Replaced by this look of… emptiness. Like someone had taken a piece of her and put her back incomplete. Well, Ally supposed, someone had, in a way. Whoever the jerk was who shot her mom had taken a piece of her. More than just the use of her legs, too. They had taken a piece of her mom’s spirit.

Ally slowly walked to the chair she always chose, on her mother’s left. She pulled the chair out, and saw her mom jump. Apparently, her mom hadn’t noticed she was there. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before her mom looked away, and Ally couldn’t stop a tiny gasp from escaping as she sat down in her chair. Her mom’s eyes… they could have belonged to a zombie. There was no life. Everything that made her mom, well, her mom was gone, it seemed.

Jason caught her eye, and they shared a worried glance at each other before turning to focus on what was happening in the kitchen. Stevie brought the last of the hot food to the table, while their dad put away the ice and the water pitcher. They both scurried to the table, Stevie settling down next to Ally, while their dad sat at the other end. Their normal seating arrangement, though in Ally’s mind, nothing about this dinner was normal.

“So,” her dad said between bites of mashed potatoes, “anyone do anything interesting today?” He eyed all three of the kids, before Stevie finally spoke up.

“Well, I applied for like five different law schools this morning… which is crazy, I know. But I want to keep my options open!”

“Yeah, because none of the schools will want a former college dropout!” Jason shot back, which caused Stevie to shriek.

“Hey, I graduated with a 4.0, and I practically aced the LSAT. I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting in!”

“I did.” The sound of their mom’s voice made all of the kids turn their heads in surprise. Partly because she had actually spoken, and partly because none of them had known she had ever applied for law school.

Ally was the first to recover. “Wait, you applied to law school?” she asked, hoping that her mom would keep talking. It was nice to hear her voice.

“Harverd. I was rejected,” her mom simply stated.

“Why? Weren’t you already in the CIA?” Jason inquired.

“I applied my junior year of college, which may have had something to do with it. I was recruited for the CIA my senior year. Probably for the best.” Her mom shrugged, before returning to picking at her food.

“Yeah, but you sure didn’t think it was for the best at the time,” her dad teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I seem to remember a very, very long week filled with ice cream, popcorn, and soppy movies that made you cry more than you were already crying, and I was dragged along for the ride.” At her dad’s comment, her mom looked up. Ally wasn’t quite sure, but she thought she might have seen a tiny sparkle in her mom’s eyes, a hint of the laughter that would have ordinarily accompanied her dad’s comment.

“Yeah, well, hindsight is 20/20.”

The rest of the meal progressed in a similar manner. Ally was surprised by how much her mom had talked. Sure, it was nowhere near the normal status quo, but it was really nice to hear her mom speaking now and then. She hadn’t realized quite how strange it had been without her mom’s voice echoing around the house every night.

Dinner ended way too soon, in Ally’s opinion. All too soon, they had all finished the delicious meal that Stevie had made, and Stevie and Ally stood up to clean the plates off of the table. Jason assisted her dad in carrying the leftovers from the table to the kitchen island, while the girls scooped the food into containers to put in the fridge or freezer.

Sneaking a look at her mom every so often, Ally felt slightly bad for leaving her at the table alone. She was fairly certain that her mom had probably insisted on not leaving the kitchen table until the kids were back upstairs, but… it was so weird. She was just… watching them.

Nudging Stevie with her elbow, she gestured with her eyes towards her mom. “Can you manage without me?” she asked. Stevie quickly nodded, and Ally ran to the living room to collect her sketchbook before returning to the kitchen table, plopping on the chair she had been in earlier, right next to her mom.

“Mom, can you help me with one of my designs?” she asked.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be, Noodle… fashion isn’t really my forte.”

“I just need your opinion,” Ally assured her, opening her sketchbook to the page she had been working on. It was a simple dress design, but Ally was incredibly proud of how it had turned out. She had actually started making a pattern for the dress already, but she didn’t tell her mom that. “So, any ideas on what color I should make this?”

Much to Ally’s amazement, she and her mom spent the next half hour at the kitchen table, looking over designs and discussing colors and fabric. Of course, Ally did quite a bit of the talking, but considering that her mom hadn’t been exaggerating when saying that fashion wasn’t her forte, her mom was surprisingly involved. Ally actually made some mental notes of things to change on her pattern for the dress.

Soon enough, though, her dad shooed Ally and her siblings upstairs to get ready for bed, all of them knowing it was a ploy to get them to go upstairs so that he could help their mom back to her room. She did actually get ready for bed, though. It had been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I am painfully aware that I suck at writing Ally's perspective... but I tried. Also, I know that Jason might seem a little bit out of character, but that is somewhat intentional. He is struggling to find his usual snark. It will come up later.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	9. Screaming Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadine and Blake deal with our favorite foreign minister... after Deputy Cushing fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a pretty short chapter that is really just kind of funny, in my opinion. I haven't updated this story in a REALLY LONG TIME (over two weeks!!!) and I really wanted to get an update out before Christmas. I was working on a longer section of this chapter, but I am dealing with some serious stress-induced writers block, so I figured I'd post what I have finished. I'm going to try to have another chapter out in the next week, but given how hectic my life has become (I wasn't living at home for six days last week), I honestly can't make any promises. Sorry!!!
> 
> Please leave a review. Oh, and if you have any suggestions or brilliant ideas for this story, leave a comment and share them with me! I'm writing this as I go, and other people's input really helps my writer's block go away!
> 
> Disclaimer: Yeah, I think you already know what this is going to say, but I don't own Madam Secretary or any of its characters. Duh.

Nadine looked up at the sound of knocking on her office door frame. She sighed at the sight of Blake, though she wasn’t all too surprised. It wasn’t that she was upset to see Blake in particular; it was just that he only seemed to show up if Deputy Secretary Cushing was doing something… ill-advised. It happened more frequently than they wanted to admit.

“What did he do now, Blake?” Nadine inquired, smirking at the look of complete bewilderment on Blake’s face as he tried to figure out how she had read his mind.

“Uh… Deputy Cushing is on a call with Foreign Minister Chen from China… and they seem to be engaged in a screaming match. Now, I know this isn’t Chen’s first time being yelled at by a US Secretary of State, but if we don’t have a valid excuse this time…” Blake was cut off by Nadine.

“I’ll handle it,” Nadine nodded, standing up from her desk, passing Blake where he was standing near the door to her office, and stepped out into the hallway, beckoning him to follow. They walked the ten feet it took to reach the office that Matt and Daisy shared. Nadine popped her head in.

“Any chance you guys could come up with another “urgent meeting” that Cushing has to attend right this instant? We need to get him off of a call with Chen…”  
“Well, I did see some rumor of instability in Canada…” Daisy suggested with a smirk.

“Why do  _ we _ always have to cover for you?” Matt wined.

“Because I have to manage the US foreign policy until Secretary McCord returns, and I can’t do it all, as shocking as it might sound,” Nadine replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We’ll get on it. Blake, can you get Cushing to Conference Room F? Matt and I will be there to brief him on instability in Canada,” Daisy instructed, and Blake nodded.

“Once you get him out of the office,” Nadine added, “transfer the call to my office. I’ll take care of Chen.”

“Sure thing. I’ll let Cushing know,” Blake stated, before scurrying off to interrupt the screaming match between Cushing and Chen. Daisy and Matt scrambled to pull together a few files and tablets before running off to Conference Room F, which just so happened to be the farthest conference room from the main office, but the closest to Matt and Daisy’s office.

Nadine quickly made her way back to her desk, clearing a few files and empty coffee mugs before her screen lit up with an incoming transfer request. She hit accept, and was suddenly face to face with Ming Chen.

“Nadine Tolliver, I remember you,” Chen started, his tone clipped as ever. Nadine had only directly interacted with the man once: after the other screaming match he had had with Secretary McCord. After she had been taken by ambulance to the hospital, Nadine had had to deal with the fallout.

“I suppose you do. Now, I must apologize for our deputy secretary’s actions. The stance he showed was not condoned by Secretary McCord or any of the officials higher than us.”

“Speaking of which, where  _ is _ Secretary McCord?” Chen asked with a hint of concern.

“Minister Chen, I am sure you are aware of what happened to Secretary…” Nadine responded, slightly confused. Surely the man knew what had happened to Elizabeth McCord! It wasn’t exactly like they could hide all of the videos that had been surfacing for the past month. Of course they had tried, but a top government official not knowing...

“Well, yes, I know  _ that _ . But hasn’t it been nearly a month?”

“Minister Chen, are you aware of the seriousness of her injuries? Trust me, I wouldn't blame her for not coming back just a month after being shot in the back and…” Nadine trailed off. That piece of information wasn’t hers to tell.

“She was hit in the back? We were aware she was hit by a bullet, but… oh, she’s having mobility issues, isn’t she?” Chen had struck the nail on the head, and it grated on Nadine’s nerves. How on earth did he guess  _ that _ ?

Nadine simply nodded. “I trust you will use your discretion with this piece of information?”

“Contrary to popular belief, Mis Tolliver, I find it appalling to use personal problems to hurt a political rival, especially one who has been nothing but kind to me personally. The secret is safe with me.”

“Anyway, you’re going to have to deal with Deputy Secretary Cushing a while longer,” Nadine said, circling back to a more pertinent subject.

“Well, I can see why he didn’t receive your president’s appointment to be Secretary of State. That man is… oh, how shall I put it… a royal pain.”

“I don’t disagree, but we don’t have much of a choice. So, can you tell me what was going on in that call?”

“We were discussing the rumors of political instability in Canada.”

Nadine suddenly felt very bad for Matt and Daisy.


	10. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadine, Jay, and Blake make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always apologize when it takes me more than two weeks to update my stories, so I don't even know how to start on a month-and-a-half long absence. Though I really can't get into all of it on here, and I'm guessing none of you even care, a lot of... crap... has happened in my life over the last month, and quite a bit of it started right after Christmas. When I even had the time, I lacked any and all motivation to write, and I didn't want to just publish chapters that wouldn't get my stories anywhere. ANYWAY, I also realized that I had already posted this chapter on FFN a while back (there was a whole other drama involving that that I'm not going to get into right now), and I totally forgot to post it here! Don't worry, I'm also posting another chapter today, but I figured I had better get this one up while I still remember! I am SO, SO, SO sorry for dropping off the face of the earth!

Nadine looked up from her computer screen, looking first at Jay, who had settled himself on her office couch, then at Blake, who was situated in the wingback chair in the corner of the office. Both men were surrounded by mountains of file folders, and both were busily typing and reading on their iPads. She let out a sigh. This was not how diplomatic emergencies were supposed to get solved. 

Jay looked up from whatever he had been reading. “Figure out anything yet?” he asked, though he could predict her answer before she gave it.

“No. We just don’t have enough sources inside of the Iraqis government to get credible intel. I’m at a loss.”

Nadine saw Blake shift his eyes away from the tablet and towards the mountains of paperwork. “Seriously?” he asked incredulously. “All of this intel and none of it credible?”

“Pretty much,” Nadine confirmed. “We’re back to square one.”

“So where do we go from…” Blake was cut off by three knocks on the window that separated Nadine’s office from Matt and Daisy’s office. Both men quickly shut their tablets off, pushing the stacks of files under the couch and chair, and moving some behind Nadine’s desk. Nadine changed the webpage that her browser was showing, handing the men their coffee mugs, and picking up one of her own. 

They managed to be seated, nonchalantly drinking very, very cold coffee by the time Deputy Cushing let himself into Nadine’s office. The three knocks had been a signal from Matt and Daisy, letting them know that the Deputy Secretary was approaching. 

“Can I help you?” Nadine asked in her diplomatic voice. She was none too fond of Cushing.

“I sure hope so!” the disgruntled man bellowed. “You were supposed to have the Iraq report on my desk three hours ago! Where is it?!”

Nadine was silent, trying to come up with a viable excuse. The truth was, they had absolutely no desire to hand an honest version of the report to the easily ignited Deputy Cushing. The situation in Iraq was, well, tense to say the least. One wrong move, and Nadine and Jay were worried that the world would be plunged into another world war. That was why they were all holed up in Nadine’s office to begin with; they were trying to solve the crisis  _ without _ involving the Deputy Secretary.

“ _ Deputy _ Cushing,” Jay interrupted, emphasizing the word  _deputy_ ,“we were having some problems getting the WiFi to work late last night, and it wasn’t fixed until earlier this morning. We have been working here ever since.”

“That is strange… I had a good WiFi connection this morning…” Cushing sputtered.

That put Jay at a loss. Luckily, Blake stepped in. “You were using the secure WiFi in the main office. That server only has room for a few devices, and the other WiFi server was down.” Oh, thank God for Blake. Nadine wasn’t sure if Blake was making all of that up or not, but it seemed to work.

“Well… if you say so,” Deputy Cushing relented. “But I still want that report before I get here tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, sir,” Nadine quickly found her voice, nodding as Cushing turned and left her office without so much as a goodbye. She turned to Jay and Blake. “Any ideas?”

“None,” Jay admitted, and Blake nodded his agreement. She let out a sigh, turning back to her computer screen. Where on earth did they find more sources inside of Iraq? Who would have those kinds of contacts. Nadine’s stomach sank when she realized exactly  _ who _ would have the connections to get another source inside of Iraq. Unfortunately, that person was… preoccupied at the moment.

“And this is why we need Secretary McCord,” she heard Jay speak, more to himself, then to any of the others in the room. She almost laughed at the similarity of their thought processes. Almost.

“The secretary is still on leave, Jay,” Nadine reminded him, also attempting to remind herself. Life had become a lot more difficult for all of them since Elizabeth McCord had been shot. Not that their suffering compared in any way to what their boss was going through, but… that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard! Nadine was honestly tempted to pick up the phone and call the Secretary, but she attempted to talk herself out of it. “We can’t ask for her help until we know she is well, and I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t heard anything from the McCords in a couple of weeks.”

“I heard from Dr. McCord,” Blake piped up. At the eyes that shot up to him, he continued. “He said that things were getting better. Sort of. She’s still getting used to, well, everything… but he said that it’s better than when she was hiding in her room for like a week…”

“She hid in her room for a week?” Jay asked in shock, his words parroting Nadine’s thoughts. Wow, that was happening a lot today!

“Oh, you guys didn’t know that?” Blake’s face suddenly went pale, and he stammered, “Um… please don’t tell Dr. McCord… or… or the Secretary that I told you guys that? He’s a former Marine and she’s a former CIA agent… I don’t want to be on their bad side…”

“Relax, Blake,” Nadine reassured him. “We won’t tell them that we know, will we, Jay?”

It took a few seconds for Jay to take her hint, but he straightened his back from his slouched position and looked towards them. “Oh, yeah, of course we won’t!”

“Promise?” Blake hesitantly asked.

“Promise,” Nadine replied sincerely. “Now, what can we do  _ other _ than contacting the one person we literally cannot call?”

The trio stayed in Nadine’s office for hours, trying to come up with a solution to their Iraq problem. In Nadine’s opinion, they were trying to accomplish the impossible. Without reliable intel, they couldn’t do anything about the escalating situation across the world.

“Are you  _ sure _ we can’t call MSec?” Jay asked for the fourth time, earning a groan from both Blake and Nadine.

“Fairly certain, yes,” Nadine muttered.

“You know…,” Blake started, only pausing because both sets of eyes in the room began boring holes into his brain.

“Keep going…” Jay prodded.

“We can’t call the Secretary directly, no. If she didn’t have any problem with that, Dr. McCord certainly would. But what if we called him? He would probably be okay setting us up with a few minutes to talk to Secretary McCord, if we play our cards right…”

“Normally I would be adamantly opposed… but I don’t see any better ideas. Blake, you have Dr. McCord’s number?” Nadine inquired.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Blake shot back, and she let herself smirk. Of course Blake had the phone number. The boy probably had the phone numbers of half the residents of DC.

“Call Dr. McCord. See if he can get the Secretary to do… well, at least to talk with us for a couple of minutes. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Blake agreed, rushing off to his desk.

“Well,” Nadine muttered, turning to Jay, “we’ll see how this goes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the mandatory disclaimer that informs you that I have no ownership of Madam Secretary or any of its characters. I think you already knew that...
> 
> Please leave a comment! They make my day!


	11. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get back to the McCords!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, and it's hardly been proofread, but oh well...I promise this will get more exciting soon!
> 
> Please leave a comment if you feel so inclined!

The words had begun to run together on the page in front of Elizabeth’s eyes. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, rereading the last few sentences of her book, and let out a yawn. She hadn’t really slept the night before, her thoughts keeping her up into an ungodly hour of the morning.

She had managed to transfer and position herself on the end of the living room couch, a feat she was still amazed she had accomplished. Henry had been making a late breakfast, and she hadn’t wanted to bother him. Plus, it gave her a shred of independence, something she rarely had anymore.

She could hear Henry softly humming to himself as he worked in the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him do that since… well, since the shooting, and it made her smile. It had been a rare occurrence even before everything had gone to crap, but she had vivid memories of Henry humming all the time before the kids were born. Before life had gotten crazy.

Elizabeth put down her book, not comprehending the words anymore. Her eyes landed on the stack of papers, unceremoniously plopped on the coffee table after her follow up appointment the day before. Among other things, the doctor and physical therapist had agreed that she was cleared to return to her job.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure when she wanted to go back to work. She missed the people, that was for sure. She hadn’t seen any of her staff since she was still in the hospital, and even then, it wasn’t everybody. Jay, Daisy, and Matt were all consumed with the fallout of the Secretary of State getting shot. She guessed that Nadine had been pretty consumed as well, but Nadine and Blake had come to her room the day after the shooting, and it had been nice to see them. They had been there, they had seen everything happen right in front of them. She felt terrible that they had had to see that.

However, even though she missed her staff, she wasn’t sure that she missed the stress of her job. She had thought about this time and time again, and she still wasn’t sure whether or not she was ready to be Secretary of State again.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry stood in front of the stove, scrambling eggs. He had woken up early that morning, and seeing that his wife was still asleep, he had headed to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast. Smiling to himself when he had heard Elizabeth getting herself out of bed, he had contemplated checking if she needed any help, but decided against it. Henry was well aware that Elizabeth had been feeling rather helpless the last few weeks, and he knew that she needed some amount of independence to keep herself sane. 

He noticed that he was humming to himself, but he didn’t stop; it felt good. It made it feel like things were getting better… maybe they were. There were still bad days, sure, but there were also pretty good days. Elizabeth had even gotten cleared for work, though he knew she had her doubts about going back. Who was he kidding? Of course she would go back! He just hoped that she thought long and hard before she decided that she was ready.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rhythmic buzzing from his phone. His eyebrows raised when he saw the name on the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Dr. McCord...uh...it’s Blake Moran.”

“If you’re calling me to tell me that my wife needs to report to work right away, I just might kill you…”

“Sir?” Blake’s already apprehensive tone turned to downright fear.

“Sorry, go on.” Henry chuckled. Maybe threatening the poor man wasn’t the best strategy.

“We… Nadine, Jay and I, that is… we have a question.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found a story on another website that was abandoned in 2017. This is in no way a copy of that story; I just really liked one of their ideas, so I'm writing a story surrounding that idea. I'm not going to tell you what the idea is, because that will totally spoil the story, but I think you'll figure it out.
> 
> By the way, the idea was not in this chapter.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!!!


End file.
